A Collection of FredHermione drabbles
by The Steppy One
Summary: My drabble submissions to the fwhg ldws community over on LiveJournal. Who will be the last drabble writer standing?
1. 2:1 Making a Start

::pretends she didn't publish this without adding an author's note::

I'm taking part in the Fred Weasley / Hermione Granger Last Drabble Writer Standing challenge over on Live Journal, yes, that is correct, I'm writing Hermione with someone other than Ron! Shock horror! Each week a prompt is given and participants write a drabble between 250 and 750 words long, people then vote and the drabble receiving the least amount of votes is eliminated from the competition. The person left is the last drabble writer standing! Woot!

Will just say that these drabbles do not follow on week to week (drabble to drabble) and are not from the same universe. Take each one on it's own merits.

* * *

**Title:** Making a Start

**Prompt:** Drabble has to include a Snowstorm

**Rating:** PG

**Word Count:** 745

**A/N: **Warnings for major character death and angst. The two do generally go well together! lol

**Making A Start**

...

It had been three years since Ron had died, but still she refused to move on. Sometimes he thought he saw some flicker of hope and ambition for something she didn't have but wanted in her eyes, but the next minute he would see it flicker and die.

He knew the thing she didn't have but wanted was him. But that grief, that guilt, an infuriating belief that she was doing something heinous by moving on from loving the person she thought she would love forever was keeping her from him.

He had been there for her since Ron had died. Tried to help her to grieve, and tried to make her see that there was nothing she could have done to save him, been a shoulder to cry on when she could grieve in no other way, and he had desperately tried to make her smile.

That was what he did! He was Fred Weasley, he made a living out of making people laugh! Surely making someone smile was the easiest thing in the world?

Except it wasn't when it was his younger brother's girlfriend who had lost the centre of her world.

It was Christmas Eve and he had no idea why he was standing in front of his brother's grave, the snow falling around him, the wind sticking it to the back of his neck and his hair. He was cold and wet, but part of him was refusing to move, mainly because she hadn't turned up even though she had promised she would.

He hadn't meant to fall in love with Hermione, that hadn't been part of the plan; not that he had a plan as such. If he did have some sort of goal it was to help Hermione see there was a life to continue living. But then it had distorted to trying to show Hermione there was a life worth living which heavily involved him.

He had told her how he felt. Not his finest hour, and the reason he hasn't drunk Firewhiskey since, but he only half regretted it, because finally he could gauge if his hopes were just that, or whether they could actually grow into something real.

'How come you're out here?'

He spun around and skidded on the snow. Hands grabbed his waist and he managed to find his footing before looking down on Hermione's snow covered hair. He cleared his throat.

'Was just asking Ron if he hated me or not.'

'Ever with the dramatics!'

'Not really, brothers have issues when their siblings try and take their girlfriends off them.'

She stepped around him and knelt in front of the headstone.

'You'll get cold,' he said quietly, his now natural instinct of keeping her safe kicking in.

He watched as she leant forwards and kissed Ron's name on the hard stone. His stomach clenched; a part of him hating this obvious show of love for his brother and not him. He watched her stand and turn around to face him. Her eyes were filled with tears and her nose was red.

'He would never hate you,' she whispered, 'and he would want me to be happy.'

'That's all I've ever tried to do; to make you happy, to show you things would get easier and that someone will always love-.' He stopped talking and looked at the snow at his feet. 'I didn't mean to, you know? I never meant for this to become anything other than me being a shoulder you could cry on. I'd never do that to Ron.'

'If he was alive, of course you wouldn't. But he's not, Fred. He died and it's silly to not live when that's what he died for.'

He held his breath, not having a clue if, how or why things had changed.

He watched as she took a small step towards him, put her cold hands on his face and pressed her lips to his. He closed his eyes and didn't move, not wanting to give her reason to pull away.

She did though, as he knew she would.

'Hermione, I'm confused, what-?'

'It's a start. I can't promise anything except that I'll start living the way I want to as opposed to living in the past. His death was pointless if I don't.

He couldn't help but smile and she returned the gesture.

'How's that for 'pulling myself together and moving on'?'

He chuckled.

'It's a start, Hermione, it's a start.'


	2. 2:2 Temptation Indeed

**Title: ** Temptation Indeed

**Prompt:** Temptation

**Rating: **PG

**Word Count: **100

**A/N:** Drabble had to be 100 words exactly

**Temptation Indeed**

...

She was unbelievably annoyed with him. He wasn't too happy with her either.

He should've known not to experiment in the kitchen. She should've known he would have cleared it all up.

He had gone for a shower, she had buried herself in a book.

They had both ignored each other when he came back downstairs, dripping wet.

She bristled; he knew that annoyed her.

He also knew she couldn't resist him when he was dripping wet from the shower.

She watched the drips run down the contours of his back, caught by his towel.

Temptation indeed.

Git.


	3. 2:3 Ginger Sniffles

**Title: **Ginger Sniffles

**Prompt:** Someone has to have the 'flu

**Rating: **PG

**Word Count: **640

**A/N: **none

**...**

**Ginger Sniffles**

It wasn't often that she let him sprawl across her lap in the undignified way that he was, but he was ill so she would tolerate it for a while.

She stroked his ginger hair out of his eyes, which had started watering yet again. He blinked and tears rolled down his face. He snuffled and rolled onto his back.

Hermione looked down at him and stroked his ginger locks once more. She felt sorry for him, he'd had 'Flu for a long time now, and it didn't seem like it was going to shift anytime soon.

She ran her hand down his side and scratched gently. He didn't do anything but she thought he was appreciative of the action. Her suspicions were confirmed when his tail wrapped around her hand.

''CHOO!'

Crookshanks leaped off Hermione's lap at the noise and ran through to the kitchen.

'Fred! As well as scaring Crookshanks you nearly gave me a heart attack!'

'How come you're giving your bloody cat more attention than me?'

'He's ill!'

'So am I!' Fred retorted, outraged.

'He's got Cat 'Flu!'

'And I've got Man 'Flu!'

She rolled her eyes.

'You know full well there is no such thing as 'Man 'Flu' and 'Flu for a cat is much worse than it is for a human!'

Fred tried to look angry but his bright red nose did little for the effect.

'I told you to stay in bed, anyway,' she said kindly, feeling his forehead with the back of her hand.

'I would've done but I need a drink and my nurse was too busy fussing over her other very ill patient!'

'Oh, shush! I'll get you a drink, what do you want?'

'Honey, Lemon and Firewhiskey, please,' he said with a smile.

'If you keep putting Firewhiskey in your Honey and Lemon you'll be ill and hung over, tomorrow.'

'Yes, but I don't have to go to work, so I won't c…ca…car-choo!'

All the lights went out in the room.

'Oh, well this is bloody wonderful, Fred!' Hermione exclaimed as she stumbled over Crookshanks in an attempt to retrieve her wand off the sofa.

She felt her hand scoot the wand a few inches across the cushion and leaned forwards to grasp it, when Crookshanks got under her feet once more and she lost her balance and went crashing to the ground.

'Oww! Oh, Merlin above!'

'Hermione? Are you okay?'

'No! Ahh! God, that hurts!'

'What've you hurt? Where the hell are- this is ridiculous!'

'I didn't spark out the lights, Fred!' she shouted from the floor.

She heard him sigh and shuffle back to the bedroom. He disappeared and then she saw wand light come towards her.

She watched, still clutching her knee – which was still hurting far too much for her liking – as Fred waved his wand and lit the candles situated around the room and sat down next to her with the duvet off the bed.

'Fred, what-?'

'Well, I'm guessing you aren't moving anywhere quickly and I don't want to be in the bedroom on my own.'

Despite her pain, she smiled. Fred pulled the duvet over them, being careful not to press on Hermione's sore knee and they snuggled together. Cushions were pulled off the sofa and they made themselves a sort of den on the lounge room floor.

After a few minutes of just giggling and hugging, Crookshanks made himself comfy on the duvet.

'Arse. I forgot to get my alcoholic Honey and Lemon before I got settled,' Fred said with a sigh.

'Well, if you want it, one of us is gonna have to move.'

'Unless…' Fred pondered. 'Crookshanks?'

The cat looked at him through watery eyes and then settled himself down to sleep.

'Maybe not!'


	4. 2:4 I Don't Want to Stop At All

**Title:** I Don't Want To Stop At All

**Prompt:** Lyrics taken from 'I Don't Want to Stop at all' by Queen

**Rating:** PG

**Word Count: **750

**Author's Note:** Apparently the prompt for this week wasn't enough of a challenge for me, so I decided it would be more fun to chop the rabble up into a 50 word intro, and seven 100 word drabbles! Seriously someone tell me to do things the easy way next time, okay? *rolls eyes at self*

...

**I Don't Want To Stop At All**

She was determined this time.

She was.

Probably.

She was determined, yes, but the past three times she had tried to actually talk to Fred about their 'Situation' something had stopped her. Namely, her nerves and Fred's lack of urgency.

Not this time, though. Nothing was going to stop her.

...

_Fourth time lucky..._

She walked up Diagon Alley towards the brightly coloured shop and went over her opening line in her head. Yes, she had thought of an opening line because she had left talking to him about that for far too long. Not that that was her fault of course.

She carried on up to the door, at which point it was blown off its hinges and landed at her feet. She sighed, knowing that now wasn't the time for that conversation and that she would be spending the next few hours trying to undo whatever had just happened.

...

_Fifth time's not a charm..._

Today would be fine. It would. She was meeting him for lunch and then all her questions would be answered. She would know if their passionate kiss in the orchard at the Burrow had meant something to him, as it had to her. She wasn't sure if she could admit that to him yet, she had only just admitted it to herself.

'Hermione! Court hearing's been moved forward to half twelve.'

Her heart sank.

'But-'

'I haven't eaten, either!'

'I was-'

'You'll have to meet whoever it is some other day.'

Well, that was that.

...

_Sixth time had to work..._

She was about to apparate out of her flat when an owl landed on the windowsill and started tapping on the glass urgently.

She let the owl in and took the scroll of parchment from its leg.

Recognising Fred's handwriting she sighed.

Hermione,

Explosions are the thought of the month apparently; George just blew up the kitchen. The building has to be stabilised before anyone else can come in. He apologises profusely as do I.

Sorry again,

Fred x

She kicked off her shoes and landed heavily on the sofa. Tonight was not her night.

...

_Seventh Heaven?_

Sick of missing their meetings, she decided going to see him when they had arranged nothing was the best. Her lack of knowledge about something so important to her was infuriating. Something must be done.

She arrived as the last customers were leaving, but one was still talking to Fred. She waited near the sweets.

'Sir, I can't give you a refund!'

'You'll give me a refund, Weasley. Or else.'

'Or else what?'

The bang made her scream. The man fled, but she had only eyes for the man on the floor. The man who was hardly breathing.

...

_I waited too long..._

'Fred... it's me... Hermione...'

She looked over his still body.

'Um... I don't know what to say. Typical really, I've wanted to talk to you for ages, and now that I can, I can't!

'I miss you. Ridiculous, really, I've seen you more this week than ever. At least before I could've spoken to you if I really tried. I mean... I did try, maybe I'm just scared you don't think of that kiss as much as-'

She watched his eyes open and heard him clear his throat.

'Her...mione?'

'Fred?'

'It d...did... kiss me.'

...

_Nine days later..._

'Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?'

'Hermione, I'm fine! Sit down and stop fussing!'

'I'm not fussing! I'm looking after the man who was hexed unconscious and refused to wake up for a week!'

'I was recovering! At least you had a peaceful week! And you loved what I did, when I did!'

She couldn't argue with that.

'I thought I'd missed my chance,' she said quietly.

'With what?'

'You... Us... I don't even know if there is an 'us'.'

'Do you want there to be?'

'Do you?'

'Answer the question.'

'Yes.'

'Then there's an 'us'.'

...

_One, two, three..._

They had missed their first three attempts at an official date. Hermione was hardly surprised and now expected something to happen whenever they made plans.

It was Friday, she had finished her work and she decided to be spontaneous.

She went home, changed and headed out for Wheezes.

She had decided that going out with Fred Weasley was going to be a fascinating challenge, but she found herself liking that concept.

With regards to Fred Weasley, nothing was going to stop her.

I'm a shooting star, leaping through the sky...

She didn't want to stop at all.


	5. 2:6 Over Finished No More

**Title: **Over. Finished. No More.

**Prompt:** The drabble had to include a proposal of marriage

**Rating:** PG-13

**Word Count:** 747

**A/N(optional):** None

...

**Over. Finished. No More.**

Of all the things he had walked in on over the years, this was the something he both never ever wanted to see, but at the same time, needed to see. Because if Hermione Granger agreed to marry his younger brother then that was it. Over. Finished. No more.

Technically he hadn't actually walked in the warm lounge of the Burrow, but he had poked his head around the door, looking for everyone inside the house, who - according to his mother - should be outside eating too much and enjoying the late summer heat.

As soon as he had seen Ron down on one knee in front of Hermione he had quickly stepped back and held his breath for a few seconds, making sure he hadn't been seen by either of them.

He shut his eyes, trying to take the image from his mind, but it was burned into his mind's eye and he could see them as clearly as if he was still looking at them.

He could hear Ron starting his prepared speech and he couldn't help but push the door open a tiny bit more and look through the gap.

Hermione was obviously flustered, her cheeks red and switching her weight from foot to foot occasionally. She was smiling, and her eyes, well, he hated that he couldn't look into them properly to gauge exactly how she was feeling. She hated that he could do that, knew she couldn't hide anything from him, however much she wanted to.

He let his head fall against the door frame and he willed her to look up at him. He needed her to look at him, to tell him through her eyes that she loved Ron more than she loved him. He needed to know that was how she felt.

Because if it was, then this was it: he would stop this ridiculous obsession with her and get on with his life as he was before all this started.

Over. Finished. No more.

But it wasn't a ridiculous obsession, because he loved her, and he knew she loved him too. The time she had spent in the shop with him had started out as friendship, then she started helping with a couple of the inventions - mainly the safety aspects of them, antidotes, cushioning charms and self contained flames - where they found they made each other smile, wound each other up which always ended in laughter, and then one evening, a kiss.

'Hermione, I know I'm not perfect, and I get things wrong sometimes...'

Don't put yourself down. She hates /ithat! ...

'Oh for-!' The potion in the cauldron hissed and then evaporated into thin air. 'I'm such a stupid...' the growl of frustration made her turn around and look at him. 'I can't even read instructions anymore! I've just put twice the amount of snake venom in there and it's gone and evaporated the whole bloody lot! Merlin!'

'Fred Weasley don't you dare call yourself stupid! You made a mistake, everyone does it...'

He remembered the way she had kissed him after that. He had gone to argue, but she had stopped him with a fierce kiss. When they pulled apart she looked frightened and guilty, but he knew she didn't regret it.

'...I love you more than anything in the world...'

He had told her he loved her once.

'No you don't, Fred. I'm far too uptight, to bossy and just too boring for you. You need someone more like you, and I... I need...'

She had never finished that sentence because he had kissed her, trying to tell her how he felt without words.

'...if you would do me the honour, of being my wife.'

He looked right at her, and she lifted her head and looked straight at him. She stared at him, and he stared right back, neither of them blinking. His stomach turned, waiting for the decision that was going to change his life, whatever it was.

'Yes, Ron. I'll marry you.'

He watched as Ron stood up and hugged his fiancee. She looked right at him over Ron's shoulder and he nodded his head an inch with a smirk on his face.

He turned round and walked back out to the garden and the family madness.

From now on, Hermione Granger was his friend and his brother's fiancee.

No longer was she the woman he loved.

It was all over.

Over. Finished. No more.


	6. 2:7 All in the Name of Work

**Title:** All in the Name of Work

**Prompt:** Pepper Spray

**Rating:** PG-13

**Word Count:** 743

**A/N: **none

...

**All in the Name of Work**

He wasn't sure if he had ever been in this much pain before. Even a stone wall crushing him in the final battle hadn't hurt this much.

He had never meant for it to go this far, and it had all started out so innocently. Well, as innocent as it can be when you're inventing the second wave of Skiving Snack Boxes.

They had done projectile vomiting, fevers, and nosebleeds, but now they wanted to come up with three more ailments they could sell along with their antidotes.

After a three hour long thinking session, George had decided to look into unexplained paralysis of the limbs and Fred had taken on head colds. After George had somehow managed to lose the ability to move both arms and legs at the same time and had to wait for Fred to come home after an evening out, Fred decided he had taken the better half of the deal.

So for the last few weeks he had been sporting varying degrees of sneezing, watery eyes, a running nose and the odd cough for good measure.

What he didn't expect from this was that Hermione would become concerned for his health and feel the need to take care of him.

This was the main reason for his current predicament. He had notice that the more ill he had seemed, the more caring Hermione had become. Not that she wasn't caring when he was well, it's just he got extra attention when he was 'suffering'.

He had yet to tell her that he wasn't actually suffering at all, in that he didn't feel ill, he just was a little tired of wiping his nose.

The small bottle of what he had heard being called 'Pepper Spray' had seemed so innocent and he had waved away the concerns for experimenting with it. It seemed perfect for what he wanted: it caused shortness of breath and stinging eyes which was what he was looking for for the main ingredient.

Expecting only a small amount of stinging in his eyes he had pointed the can at his face and squeezed the trigger.

Now he was rolling around, swearing to high heaven and banging his fists on the floor. He had never felt pain like it.

'Fred! What's wrong? What's happen-...' He heard Hermione stop at where he thought he had dropped the bottle. 'Oh, please tell me you did not squirt yourself with Pepper Spray.'

'Might... have...'

'But why would you-... it's just... are you insane?'

'I didn't know it would hurt this bloody much!'

'Oh, yes, because squirting yourself with something that only stings a little bit is perfectly sensible!'

'It's for work! I don't normally go around trying to give myself a cold, you know!'

'Oh, well if it's for work then that's perfectly accept-...'

If Fred hadn't been in the pain he was, he would be concerned that he just dropped himself in a huge pile of Hippogryff dung, but because he was still writhing in agony, he didn't care one bit.

'Are you saying that for the past four weeks I've been thinking you've been ill with a very bad cold that would not go and trying to make you feel better, when it's all been self inflicted?'

Fred crawled over to the sofa and sat back against it and tried to open his eyes. A very blurry shape - which he knew by the large mass of brown was Hermione - filled his vision.

'That might be the case, yes,' he said as he shut his eyes again.

'Right, well in which case I shall leave you to carry on with your experiments!'

She disappeared from his very blurry view.

'Wait! Hermione, please! You have to help me!'

'I do not!'

'Okay, I'm sorry! I'll make it up to you!'

'How?'

'I'll stop arsing around, tell you I really fancy you and take you out on a date instead of tricking you into caring for me.'

He waited for her response, his eyes still burning.

'I want flowers and chocolates on our first date and I want to go somewhere nice, you are not just going to take me to the pub!'

'Absolutely. Chocolates, flowers, somewhere posh.'

'Fine, apology accepted.'

'Thank you, now can you help me with this?'

'I'll try, but you might just have to sit it out.'

'Will you sit it out with me?'

'Well, seeing as though you asked nicely...'


	7. 2:8 The Coward who said No to Paradise

**Title:** The Coward Who Said No To Paradise

**Prompt: **'After all these years, I see that I was mistaken about Eve in the beginning; it is better to live outside the Garden with her than inside it without her,' from The Diaries of Adam and Eve by Mark Twain

**Rating:** PG-13

**Word Count:** 750

**A/N: **none

...

**The Coward Who Said No To Paradise**

The rest of them managed it with absolutely no problems at all. All the Weasley brothers managed to find a girl they loved and are living their happily ever afters with them. Ginny managed it as well, and she managed to live her happily ever after with the Saviour of the Wizarding World, no less. Quite an achievement.

George had managed it, too. Found the girl of his dreams in one of my ex-girlfriends which, contrary to popular belief, had never been an issue. Me and Angelina had gone out a few times, laughed a lot, but had never felt the compulsion to commit to each other. Years later she met George and found something in him that she had never found in me, and really, it didn't bother me. I was already married by then.

I'm giving the impression that I've never settled down, when I have. I married Rachel six years ago and I love her. She's just not the girl of my dreams.

The girl of my dreams married my younger brother and that was fine. When they married she was Hermione Granger, slightly bossy and occasionally annoying with her 'always has to be right' complex, but at the same time brilliant.

The brilliant bit struck me a couple of years after I got married and apparently it struck her that I was brilliant, too, around about the same time. Merlin knows why she thought I was worth risking her marriage for, but there was obviously something about me that she liked.

But after one very close call in Wheezes I decided we couldn't risk the upset it would cause. That's right, I, Fred Weasley, was utterly selfless and called it off. I said things like 'it would cause too much hurt' and 'we'd be outcast from the family' as reasons, and she agreed.

I'll never forgive her for that.

Inside I was begging her to tell me it wouldn't matter as long as we could be together, but she was being selfless like me and put other people first.

Selfless or just cowardly. I haven't decided yet.

Then a few years ago I told her I didn't care about anyone else anymore, that we should be together regardless of all that.

But then she got pregnant and that put that idea to rest.

My Goddaughter is the spitting image of her, except with Weasley red hair. Sometimes I wonder what mine and Hermione's children would look like. Rachel was never all that maternal, we came to the attitude of 'if it happens then fair enough, if not, we'll not lose any sleep over it'. Maybe if I had my own children I'd feel more guilty. Maybe the want to leave my wife and live a life with Hermione would die a little more every time I saw my child's smile.

But the want and need for Hermione hasn't gone, even though the opportunity has. Why? Because one of us is dead.

Selfishly, I wish it were me, because then I wouldn't have to grieve for someone I loved with all my heart, without looking as though I'm more upset than a brother-in-law should be.

That and I wouldn't have to live with the fact that I chose the easy way out. We could have had everything we both wanted and needed, but both took a step backwards and kidded ourselves that it was for the best.

Everyone's left the graveyard now, except me. I cry tears for her, for me, my little brother, my Goddaughter, and a new born baby that will never know his mother because of 'complications'. How, with all the magic in the world, she died while bringing another life into being, I'll never understand. But I don't have to understand it, I just have to live with it.

If I've never had it, I can't miss it, can I?

Wrong. Sobs are wracking through me and there's nothing I can do to stop them, and I don't want to. If I do this here and now I can carry on as is expected of me. I'll be the shoulder to cry on, I'll be the one giving words of comfort to Ron and the very confused four-year-old girl who just doesn't understand why her mummy isn't here anymore. I'll be the person I'm not and get on with it.

I'll be Fred Weasley, doting Godfather and supportive brother, and not the coward who said no to paradise.


	8. 2:9 The Way it Should Be

It's like it's become a part of me.

I know that sounds ridiculous, especially because I'm talking about a building, but it's true. For the short amount of time when I felt like I wasn't welcome here, it was physically painful. I kept telling myself it was all because of the hostility of the people in the house, which was partly true, but it was the place I missed as well. The crookedness of the structure, the orchard at the back, the yard with the chickens running freely and even the ghoul in the attic.

It was where I learnt what it was really like to be magical. Granted, I learnt as much as I could from books, but just being around magical people made all the difference and showed me wizardry was more than spells.

It was where I learnt that sometimes you had to make decisions that you didn't want to make, but had to for either the greater good, or for your own good. Sometimes the two aren't mutually exclusive, sometimes they are.

I learned to love, to hurt, to cry, to live and to Ifeel/I. To make the right decision, to accept when I had made the wrong decision, to trust, to be cautious, and to laugh. Of course I knew all of these things before, but I didn't really Iknow/I them until I became myself, and that happened during my time at the Burrow.

Can I really credit all that to a building? Well, I suppose not. A house is not a home without the people you love inside it. I loved them all. I had a second set of parents and many siblings. I fell in love with one of them, and then another. The time when I wasn't exactly welcome… that would be the time I 'chose the wrong brother'.

And that would be one of the decisions I made for my own good. Was I selfish? Probably. But I know more people would have been hurt in the long run had I not made it. This is my justification for choosing Fred over Ron. Don't ask me what went wrong between Ron and me because I can't honestly tell you. I'd be lying or insulting either of us if I came up with some half-hearted excuse, so I never have. I just fell out of love with him, and then found true love with Fred.

It was strange, I'm not going to deny that. Even when people insisted they were fine with the whole situation, I still refused to be affectionate towards Fred when we were here. I didn't care if Ron was in the house at the same time as us, it felt strange and I felt guilty for far too long.

We're all okay now, though. More than okay, in fact. We've had our heartaches and pain over the years, and there's been Imany/I years. I wish less of them would show up as grey hairs on my head.

People passed on; thankfully, when the time seemed right, and through various circumstances, the Burrow is now the place I truly call home. Our children have called this home, and our Grandchildren, too. It's still the most open house you will ever come across. With a Weasley family that is now too big to explain in an afternoon, it could never be quiet. We love it this way, it's the way it always has been and the way we always want it to be. I don't think this house would survive without the constant flow of people coming in and out of it.

There I go again, talking like it's alive or something. Call me mad or crazy, with the amount of magic that this house has seen and been strengthened by over the years, there's more to it than brick, slate and wood.

'Hermione?'

'Yes, my Love.'

'You're staring at the house again.'

'Of this I am perfectly aware, Fred.'

'You know, I think you might be more in love with this house than you are with me.'

'Yes. Probably.'

Even after all these years I do love to make him laugh.

'Ah well, at least you're not running off after younger men. At least if the house is here, you'll still be here.'

I looked up at the old building once more.

'How long do you reckon it'll be here for?'

'I dunno. Longer than us I'd guess. There'll be many more Weasley generations passing through this old house.'

'Good. It's the way it should be.'


	9. 3:1 All the Wrong Reasons

It's back and I've entered Round 3! Fred/Hermione drabbling will be posted from LJ's fwhg_ldws competition as last time. :)

* * *

**Challenge: **1

**Prompt:** All the wrong reasons

**Restrictions:** Must be 100 words long

**Title:** Never be Right  
**Rating:** R  
**Word Count:** 100  
**A/N(optional):** none

You're doing this because he doesn't appreciate you.

_But he really does. _

You're doing this because he puts work before you.

_But he really doesn't. _

You're doing this because you don't feel loved.

_That could_ never _be right_.

You list them in your head, every reason why you are justified in wrapping yourself around your husband's brother in the most intimate way.

But you know, deep down, that there is no justification. There are no right reasons, only wrong.

Fred is wrong.

All the reasons why you are here are wrong.

But that doesn't stop it feeling right.

_Too_ right.


	10. 3:2 Counting the Times

**Challenge: **2

**Prompt:** Mr & Mrs Granger

**Restrictions:** The Grangers had to be present not just mentioned

**Title:** Counting the Times  
**Rating:** PG  
**Word Count:** 750  
**A/N(optional):** Written from Mister Granger's point of view.

_**First.**_

The first time we met, I knew something was wrong. He was the wrong Weasley. Once my memory had been returned to me I realised that although the red head in the room was somewhat of a comfort, it wasn't the Weasley that should have been there.

'Hermione, where's Ron?'

They had both been upset, my daughter distraught at having to retell the story of Ron's death at their final confrontation with Voldemort. Fred looked ridiculously lost as he tried to comfort Hermione.

I'd tried to give him an encouraging smile, not entirely sure what he was trying to convey in that small gesture. I wasn't really sure of much then.

_**Second.**_

The second time hadn't been much better than the first, in that there were still tears. I'd been a little surprised that Arthur Weasley had personally invited me to his son's burial, but I accepted the invitation on behalf of myself and Veronica. Harry and Hermione escorted us both to the Burrow, neither of them saying a great deal and I watched as Fred supported Hermione as they walked down the middle of the many rows of chairs that the rest of us were sitting in.

I daren't mention it to anyone at the time, but I saw something between them that afternoon, as they tried to laugh at memories of Ron and turn the wake into a celebration of his life. I wasn't sure of course, but I knew Hermione had found a very good friend in Fred, and at that time, that's exactly what Hermione needed.

_**Third.**_

My baby girl had shut herself off from everyone. Absolutely everyone. She stayed in her room for hours, days... I'm not entirely sure how long she stayed up there to be honest. Days ran into each other, attempts to get her to talk or go outside all became one big mess in my head.

But then Fred arrived and something shifted. He must have said or done something that no one else could. I don't know what it was and I don't need to know. All that matters is he brought my baby girl back to me.

_**Many times later.**_

She had asked what we thought. Whether people would judge her, think her a bad person for finding kindness, friendship and love in Ron's brother.

'Do the people that matter care?' I asked, already knowing the answer.

She shook her head.

'Hermione, we deal with the hand we're dealt any way we can.' I'd smile at my wife, encouraging her to carry on. 'You did what you had to, as did Fred. You found each other, and Ron would be happy that you did.'

Tears glistened in Hermione's eyes at Ron's name, but she needed to understand that however hard it is, life goes on.

When I next saw him he took my hand and addressed me as Mister Granger, even though I had told him not to, and he thanked me. For what I'm still not sure, but really, it's me who should have thanked him.

_**Only a few times later.**_

'You want to _what_' I had asked, a little shocked I admit.

'Marry her, Charles. I love her and I want to be with her until my dying day. But I need you and Veronica to give us your blessing or else I... well, I don't know what actually. I haven't entertained that possibility... Please say I can have Hermione's hand in marriage.'

'But... but you've only been together for... not very long! This is very sudden!'

'You're right! It _is_ sudden! But when you're certain about something you do it. Look, I'm not saying I'll ask her tomorrow or anything, but I will ask her. I came here on a bit of a whim actually...'

'You made the decision to marry my daughter _on a whim?_'

I admit I may have shouted that at him.

'No! Not at all, I came here to ask you _today_ on a whim, I've known I was going to do this for, well, a long time!'

I sighed, both overjoyed for Hermione and upset that she'd grown up this quickly. I looked at Veronica and she couldn't contain her happiness.

'Fred, if you love her, promise to look after her and never break her heart then... of course you have our blessing.'

I knew my decision had already been made. I knew they were meant to be together.

'Make me a Grandfather too early, though, and I'll kill you!'


	11. 3:3 Truly Magical

**Challenge: **3

**Prompt:** Summer Nights & Magical Getaway

**Restrictions:** Drabble had to take place during a summer night and Fred and Hermione had to be at a magical get-away.

**Title:** Truly Magical  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** 732  
**A/N(optional):** None

She had to admit it was quite ingenious, really. Fred did not agree.

Well, he was coming round to the idea that after he'd adjusted to not using his wand, this holiday could be the relaxing week he really needed.

She had been a little surprised when Fred had arrived home from work in a past-it's-best 1972 Mini, which he had borrowed from a supplier and announced they were driving to their holiday destination. After he had reassured her that they would, of course, fit in the car with their luggage as he had enlarge the interior, she had simply nodded and accepted this as a fun way to start their holiday.

When she asked why they weren't apparating or taking a portkey, he had informed her that there were no official apparition points or portkey stations anywhere near where they were going. She did think this fact a little strange, but when they arrived at the holiday resort just outside Llanmaes it all became clear.

'Why does that sign say 'no magic allowed'? Fred asked her, the horror etched on his face.

'I'm guessing because you aren't allowed to use magic. And surely you knew this before you booked a week's holiday here, Fred?'

'Of course I didn't bloody know! I can't go without magic for a week, Hermione, I'll explode!'

'Oh, don't be so melodramatic! It could be fun. Oh! they've got camping pods! I've never been in one of those before, they're supposed to be very comfortable.'

'Hermione, I am not camping the Muggle way for a whole week!'

'Don't be such a misery! It'll be fun and different and something we've never done together before. Surely that's worth staying for?'

He turned and looked at her. 'That's emotional blackmail, that is!'

'Correct! It is! Look, come on, we're holding up the car behind us and the owner is wondering why we're still sitting here. Just give it a try, Fred, you might enjoy it.'

Fred sighed and slowly moved the car through the gates of the resort.

They traded in their magical tent for two sleeping bags and a cooking kit and chose the camping pod nearest to the pond. They organised their things as best they could in the small space and she watched as Fred looked around at the couples in their vans and tents, the families playing games on the grass and she knew that he was coming around to Muggle camping.

On their last night they went for a walk down to the pond and lay down on the jetty with their feet dangling in the water.

'It wasn't so bad, then?' she asked him as she took his hand and entwined their fingers.

'Actually, this is probably the best holiday I've been on, and not just because I was accompanied by a gorgeous woman.'

She blushed and giggled.

'I dunno why, but there's something relaxing about having to do things by hand and not use spells to do mundane tasks. Tires you out more too, which means you don't notice that the floor is a little less comfortable than you're used to. I suppose it makes you realise what you take for granted.'

'So it turned out to be magical in a totally different way than expected, then?' she asked, a grin spreading across her face.

'Wow, that was the cheesiest line ever! But, yeah, it was. Truly magical.'

'Good, I'm glad.'

She sat up and looked down into the water. The light was fading and she couldn't see a great deal but she didn't care.

'We managed to dry out the towels we used yesterday, didn't we?' she asked Fred. He nodded.

'Good.'

She stood up, took a few steps back and took a running leap into the pond.

When she resurfaced she turned to look at Fred and laughed at the look of shock on his face.

'Hermione! You'll freeze!'

'No I won't, you'll warm me up.'

He stood up. 'As the lady wishes.' He leapt into the water and Hermione grinned. He swam up to her and with one hand pulled her body to his. She wrapped her legs around his waist and they bobbed up and down as Fred kept them afloat.

'So, another new thing we've done together then!' he said with a smile.

She nodded and leant into him and kissed him.

_Yep,_ she thought, _truly magical!_


	12. 3:4 To Trust A Weasley

**Challenge: **4

**Prompt:** An Unnatural Shade of Green

**Restrictions:** None

**Title:** To Trust a Weasley  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** 674  
**A/N(optional):** I won this round, well happy!

'Green doesn't suit you, Granger.'

She finished putting her hair in a ponytail and looked down at her clothes and then back at him.

'I'm not wearing green.'

'Oh, but you are.'

Before she could respond, George walked away from her, an annoying smug grin on his face. She mentally shrugged, used to either or both of the twins baffling her on occasion.

She was at the Burrow along with the Weasley family and the extended Weasley family. She walked through the house and out into the yard. She could see couples sat together on the grass, various tiny Weasleys running around and screaming and, although she tried her hardest not to look at them, a certain red head and his girlfriend.

Her stomach twisted and she looked away and started walking towards where Harry and Ron were being sickeningly in love and having eyes only for the other. She changed direction again and walked for a couple of minutes with no intention.

Before long she could hear footsteps coming towards her and she turned to see George jogging to catch up with her.

'I told you before, Hermione, green doesn't suit you!'

She stopped and turned towards him, her irritation obvious.

'And I told you before that I'm not wearing green!'

'No really! Here have a sweet.' He held out a paper bag and she saw lots of small, green, hard boiled sweets. 'And before you protest I'm eating one at the minute so they're not going to do you any damage.'

Against her better judgement, she took one of the hard boiled sweets and started to suck it to death. She started walking slowly, waiting for George to carry on the conversation - she couldn't really be bothered what with all that was racing through her mind.

'So, Hermione, how are you on this sunny summer's afternoon.'

She was about to answer when she looked down at her hands. They were green. Anger and mortification surged through her. She turned on George.

'You said they wouldn't do anything! I'M GREEN!'

'Actually you're not.'

She held out her hands in front of George's face.

'I'd call that green, George!'

'And I'd call it the jealous feelings you're keeping bottled inside you. Is there a reason why you're avoiding my darling twin brother, Hermione? Other than you're highly jealous of his girlfriend, because you'd rather be the person he was snogging the face off, of course!'

Her jaw dropped. She looked at George and realised he wasn't green but still eating the sweet.

'You invented a sweet that when you sucked on it, gave you the ability to see people's jealousy?'

'Correct! And yes, I am a genius!'

'But... how did you know it was Fred I'm... I mean, not that I...'

'I've been watching you over the course of the day, and you've been green all the time, it gets really bright, though, when you're looking at Fred and Clara. It doesn't take a lot of deduction.'

Horror surged through her.

'Does Fred know? Has he been eating-'

'Relax, Hermione. Somehow Fred has remained oblivious, but it won't take him long to catch on, or to realise that our latest test batch of these sweets work perfectly well and are fine for eating. Maybe you should do something about it and talk to him.'

'But Fred and Clara-'

'Work better as friends. Fred told me, it's all amicable, and they're still um... enjoying... each other, but believe me when I say that there's nothing to lose in telling him how you feel. Trust me.'

'Anyone who listens to a Weasley Twin when they say 'trust me' is a fool.'

George laughed out loud.

'You may have a point. But either way, you have nothing to lose.'

She nodded and pondered for a minute.

'George.'

'Yes, Hermione.'

'When do I stop seeing myself as green?'

'When you tell Fred how you feel.'

'George!'

'Half hour... An hour... Couple...'

'Do you actually know?'

'Not a clue. I'd go and talk to Fred if I were you!'


	13. 3:6 Watching

**Title:** Watching

**Prompt:** The song 'If we Kissed'.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Word Count:** approx. 450

**A/N(optional):** The two italicized lines are the lines from the song but are also Hermione's thoughts. Two lines of lyrics had to be used.

Watching

People watching isn't something you do, really. You're not really sure why you don't. You know Ginny loves doing it, you think it might be a confidence thing. You always thought you had to be confident in yourself before you had the confidence to watch people as they go along in their every day lives. But maybe that's just you.

But right now, all you're doing is watching as people pass you by, dance, talk, laugh and look lovingly in to other people's eyes. You've found weddings do that, there's such a huge amount of love on display that you can't avoid it, can't stop thinking about what, if, how or when...

You look at him dancing and your mind starts to wander. He has so much confidence in his self and you envy him, wanting to feel that you can overcome anything, step over any hurdle that stands in your way like he does, and you start to wonder why you haven't taken any more notice of him before.

He must have seen you looking at him, because before you're fully aware of it, he's standing in front of you and he's asked you something. You wish you could clear your head of thoughts of how smart and, well, sexy he's looking because he's still talking and you still have no idea what he's said.

_You speak and I don't hear a word_.

You shake your head and apologise quickly for being 'away with the fairies', he smiles and asks you if you want a drink. You nod and he disappears for a minute. When he returns he finds you in the same position as when he left and still with thoughts of him flooding your mind. You don't know if it's the punch you've already drunk, the fact that you're at a wedding, or the fact that you've never really _looked_ at him before, but you stand, take your drink from him and then catch his eye.

You hold his gaze for what seems like hours and in a split second you think you're going to lean in and kiss him, and in the same moment, you think he's going to do the same.

_What would happen if we kissed?_

For a couple of seconds you contemplate doing it, leaning in and kissing him lightly, then maybe a bit more passionately, but then you remember where you are, that you don't really know him and that you don't know how he will react.

A second later, he's flashed you his trademark grin, gulped down his drink and gone back to the dance floor. You want to follow him, to dance with him and maybe start to answer the what, if, how or when, but you don't, you carry on sitting and watching and you notice over the rest of the evening, that he's watching you, too.


	14. 3:7 Ron Weasley: Genius

**Title:** Ron Weasley: Genius

**Prompt:** How could you? Ron's POV.

**Rating:** PG

**Word Count:** Heh! 749

**A/N(optional):** I haven't specified who Ron ended up with after he broke up with Hermione, I leave that up to the reader's imagination!

Ron Weasley: Genius

It's amazing how three little words can be said in so many different ways, and I'm not talking about the three that most people will think about on hearing the phrase 'three little words'. If you say 'I love you' to someone, there's really only one way you can take the sentiment. I should know, I've said it many times over the past few years and I've had it said to me, too. I always meant it, I just didn't seem to notice when I stopped meaning 'I'm in love with you'.

I'm not really making a lot of sense am I? The three words I was talking about at first are 'How could you?' You think of them and automatically assume they're being said with so much venom that the phrase instantly becomes threatening. She said that to me and I admit I was scared by the anger in those three little words.

_'How could you let me believe that you still loved me?'_

_'I _do _still love you!'_

'You know what I mean, Ron. I've stopped being the person you think about as you fall asleep, I've stopped being the person you imagine a future with. I've stopped being the most important person in your life. How could you lead me on like that?'

I hadn't meant to mislead her, of course I hadn't and after that argument and conversation that went on for hours and hours we went our separate ways. We hurt, we got upset and I hit a couple of things, but we moved on. I found true love in someone else and Hermione accepted my decision. I love her for that and I always will.

But at the minute I'm annoyed with her because she's been keeping something from me and I want to know why. Why couldn't she tell me about this thing which is obviously so important to her? Why did I have to work it out myself? If I've figured out that she's falling in love with my brother then it has to be said that it's more than likely a hell of a lot more people know. I arrive at her flat and don't wait for her to answer and let myself in. I know it's safe to – her welcome mat is orange, it turns green if she's er… occupied – and find her at the kitchen table with a half eaten plate of pasta on her left and a huge pile of case notes on her right.

'How could you not tell me you're falling in love with Fred?'

Her left hand stops moving the forkful of pasta to her mouth and her right hand stops writing. A pasta shell falls off her fork and lands on her parchment. She swears and cleans it up with her wand.

'Good evening to you, too, Ron! Please come in!'

'Don't make me feel guilty for barging in. You'd be concerned if I didn't. Why didn't you tell me?'

She looks at me over her reading glasses. 'Because if I'm honest with myself I've only _just_ realised that I might be in love with him.'

'I-. Oh! Really?'

'Really. I have no idea if I'm feeling all this for the right reasons or just because I _want_ to feel everything I think I'm feeling. I need to be certain about all of this before I do anything…'

She looks out the window and drifts off before snapping her head back towards me. Her eyes are narrowed.

'How did you know, anyway? I haven't told anyone!'

'You haven't? I thought I was the last to know. You're hardly subtle when you're with Fred!'

She blushes. 'I suppose I've been flirting a little, but I have to gauge if he has any idea about how I feel and whether he feels anything similar. I think if I mess things up with another Weasley son, your mother may kill me.'

I laugh and she relaxes a little. 'Well, I have to say, there's something different about Fred these days, he seems… I dunno, happier definitely, but… maybe cautiously happy, if that makes sense.'

'You mean, like he's anticipating something good?'

'Yeah, that's exactly it.'

She nods and I can't help but smile.

'Are you okay with this?' she asks.

'Are you happy?'

She nods. 'I'm happy.'

'Then I'm okay.'

And I am. For Hermione, for Fred and for me. I can't believe I'm the first to know!

I am Ron Weasley, I am a genius.


	15. 3:8 Up on the Fourth Floor

**Title:** Up on the Fourth Floor

**Prompt:** Hermione's Store

**Rating:** T

**Word Count**: 555

**A/N(optional):** Had to be 555 words exactly.

**Up on the Fourth Floor**

Looking at the stone building from the front, with it's maroon and gold decoration and traditional, yet still modern graphics, passers by would never know what was housed in the fourth floor of the shop affectionately known as 'Hermione's Library'.

As suggested by the name of the shop, the building was home to hundreds if not thousands of books, and yes, Hermione Weasley owned it. She was by no means trying to outdo Flourish and Blotts with the sheer volume of titles her shop contained - the thought that competition between bookshops could mean one would have to close was horrifying to her - but she endeavoured to house books that were limited editions, were incredibly rare, or just weren't normally housed by 'regular' book shops. She had found herself frustrated by not being able to find that one vital but elusive title that would make her work at the Ministry of Magic so much easier.

So her project to open a rare bookshop started, with the business knowledge and expertise of her husband, Fred Weasley. It wasn't her main occupation, her work with the department of Magical Law had become her passion in life, but after a hard and stressful day at work she found her sanity in amongst her rare books.

But that wasn't all that was held in 'Hermione's Library'. Oh no. Occasionally a few people came into the shop and bypassed everything on the first floor, the second floor _and_ the third floor and carried on up to the fourth floor. It was a new venture, one that only a few people knew about. The opening had been quiet and somewhat subtle, in that there was only eight people at the official ribbon cutting to open the new floor of the shop.

When Fred had suggested that the new range of products that he was developing be housed in Hermione's shop she had scoffed and told him to expand his own building before encroaching on the space for her precious books. But then he explained what his new range was and that he didn't want them housed at the back of his _joke_ shop, where there were many families with children, all day, every day.

Hermione finally agreed, but still wasn't entirely happy about the situation. But when the thank you letters came into the shop from buyers, thanking _her_ for the positive affects the new products were having on her customers' personal lives, it made her smile and feel rather proud. At one point she was embarrassed about housing distinctly _adult_ products on her fourth floor, but the embarrassment was soon overcome after a random person hugged her in the street.

She came home one evening to find the house spotless, dinner made and ready to eat and Fred looking simply divine at the dining room table. She was slightly concerned by this obvious display of getting her on his good side.

'What do you want?' she asked before tucking in to the Roast Chicken in front of her.

'I've had the most monumentally brilliant idea for a new product range,' he replied, knowing there was no point in denying his obvious attempts to get her on his good side.

'And...,' she said after swallowing her mouthful. She took a sip of wine.

'And you're gonna have to buy the fifth floor.'


	16. 3:9 Remembrance

**Title:** Remembrance**  
Prompt: **'Smile, even if it's a sad smile, because sadder than a sad smile is the sadness of not knowing how to smile.'  
**Rating: **PG-13**  
Word Count**: 619**  
A/N(optional):** I won _and_ got Mod's Choice this week! Yay me!

**Remembrance**

She had awoken from her fretful sleep and decided that the likelihood of her getting back to sleep was small, considering it had taken her an hour to get to sleep in the first place. She wandered through the castle, tip-toeing her way through the rubble scattered everywhere, around huge piles of stone and concrete and around portraits, statues and other artefacts that had become casualties of the epic battle that had run fierce through the halls.

She still couldn't quite take in everything that had happened, and not just in the castle. The whole year had been the most surreal journey she had ever and would ever go on. She caught herself thinking it absurd that she, Hermione Granger broke into Gringotts, survived torture at the hands of one of the most twisted witches she had ever come across and had eventually, helped to defeat a wizard hell bent on destroying their world.

But it hadn't gone as she expected. The again, how had she expected this to go? She didn't know the answer to that question, but she knew that she expected Fred to survive the battle.

It was ridiculous to think of people as invincible - she had been one of the ones to prove that even immortality wasn't definite - but Fred couldn't have died! His personality was too big and strong to be beaten by death.

She had carried on walking out to the grounds and finally came to a stop. She could see the lake, the forest, Hagrid's Hut, the Whomping Willow, everything that had become somewhat of a comfort to her over the years. But at the minute she felt betrayed by it all. She wanted to blame everything around her for taking the lives of her friends. She knew she was being silly.

She jumped when someone else stood next to her, but she was relieved when it was George she saw. She didn't know what to say to him, so she gave him a half smile and carried on looking around her.

'He thought the world of you, you know,' George said, taking her by surprise.

She didn't know how to respond, so she just glanced at him before looking at the grass.

'Said that if Ron didn't get his arse in gear and ask you out, then he would.'

'I... but he... we...'

She couldn't complete her sentence and George didn't try and do it for her. She thought about Fred and realised the grief she was feeling was that of missing out on getting to know someone properly. There was always something about Fred that had intrigued her, something about his constant joking, his sarcasm, his energy, his lack of regard for the rules... basically everything that made him the polar opposite of her, and now she wouldn't get to find out about those aspects and many more that made him unique.

'Do me a favour, Hermione.'

'Anything,' she replied, tears stinging her eyes.

'When you think about him, smile. And I mean _every_ time, even if it's a sad smile, because that's better than not smiling at all. Fred hated it when people looked like they had forgotten how to be happy, when there was so much in this world to be happy about, even in dark times. Remember him with a smile, Hermione. Always.'

She nodded and watched as he walked away. She stayed standing in the middle of the grounds and smiled. She knew George was right, Fred wouldn't want them moping around, he would have died for nothing if they didn't carry on as they wanted.

Every time she thought of Fred she would smile.

Every time she smiled, she would think of Fred.


End file.
